I was afraid that I would care too much.

Jax knew he wouldn’t care enough.

“Who was that?” he asked as we walked back through Madoc’s house and to my car.

“Tate’s best friend, K.C.”

We opened our car doors and climbed in.

“What does the K.C. stand for?” He slicked back stray hairs that had fallen out of his pony tail.

“No idea,” I sighed. “She’s been K.C. for as long as I’ve known her.” I looked over at him before turning the ignition. “And don’t,” I ordered.

“Don’t what?”

“I’m trying to get level with Tate. Shit needs to calm down. Don’t create more drama. K.C.’s not a one night stand kind of girl, and she’s definitely too emotional for friends with benefits. Just leave her alone.”

“Too late, brother. My people are hunters.”

His people. I laughed to myself, although it was sad. I doubted Jax even remembered what his mother looked like let alone her tribe’s name. And he was only a fourth American Indian, anyway, but to him, he was all Indian.

“She’s not your type,” I pointed out. “Uptight and whiny.”

Pulling around the driveway, I laid on the gas, speeding down the road towards the gate.

“Exactly my type.” He spoke low. “You can’t fall for someone like that.”

Chapter 40

“Son of a bitch,” I grunted, sitting up in bed.

Arching my leg, I rested my forehead in my hand with my elbow propped up on my knee.

I’m so f**ked.

My dick was throbbing so hard it hurt.

I was waking up with constant hard-ons, and it was like I was thirteen all over again.

I was actually waking up in pain with the pressure between my legs, and the only thing I wanted was under lock and key next door.

It was going to be a long f**king year. That was for sure.

I still didn’t have any plans about college, but one thing was for certain. Wherever I ended up, I looked forward to visiting Tate and screwing her brains out in privacy, without parents around.

A creak interrupted my thoughts, and my head shot up out of my hand to see Tate stepping into my room.

My chest caved, and I blinked a few times to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.

She shut the door and leaned back against it.

“Please tell me you’re thinking about me.” Her lips were soft and playful as she purred her words.

She was f**king me.

With her look, fierce and urgent. With her mouth, moist and open. With her voice, smooth and taunting, and I was ready to thank my lucky stars that she was here.

“Are you kidding?” I raised my eyebrows and whipped off the blanket, gesturing to the very hard bulge poking through the jeans that I’d fallen asleep in. “Look at this shit. I can’t think straight.”

And I jumped out of bed and rushed her. Our lips came together, and the sweetness of how her body molded to mine made me regret every other girl I’d touched.

Tate always tasted good, like hot apples and angry skies, and her tongue was simply candy.

She knew how to move with me. When I leaned in, she arched back. When I pulled my head back, she read my mind and opened her neck to me.

“Wait,” she gasped. “Your front door was open. I didn’t see your mom when I walked in, but she’s got to be up.”

I shook my head, scolding her. “You started this. And this isn’t your house. There are no rules here.” I smiled and leaned over to my iPod dock and switched on Rachel Rabin’s Raise the Dead to drown out our noise.

“Come here,” I whispered, pulling her by the h*ps into my body.

But she pushed me away.

Disappointment—-no, pain and confusion—racked through me.

“Wha—” I started to ask but sucked in my breath when she began peeling off her clothes.

Fuuuuck.

Her little, white tank top?

Gone.

Her pajama shorts and panties?

Off in a single movement.

And when she came to me, I was light-headed and f**king hard.

I glided my fingers up her sides and then down over her beautiful br**sts. Her skin was silky and firm, like rain.

Perfect.

I didn’t even have time to reach for my nightstand drawer before she pushed me down on the bed and straddled me.

“Tate, a condom,” I gasped out.

Holy shit.

My whole body shook with the contact, her wet heat rubbing against me and the blood pumping through my cock.

“Pants,” she whispered, and when she leaned over to grab a condom, I knew what she meant.

After about three seconds, the rubber was on, and I thrust up and inside of her.

We stilled for a minute, both shuddering and catching our breath as we soaked in the feeling.

God, Tate. So tight.

Her lips crashed down on mine, and I dove into her mouth, moving my tongue against hers as we gasped and came back for more.

“Jared,” she whispered between kisses. “Something’s wrong with me. I always want more of you.”

Her h*ps started moving back and forth, up and down my cock, making a sweet tightness race down my arms and legs.

Her heavenly skin felt like cream, and I grabbed her ass in my hands, jerking her down on me as the room filled with wet heat and sweat.

God… she loved me. I still couldn’t believe it, but she did.

“What do you want, Tate?” I breathed against her lips, desperate and f**king lost in my need for her skin, her smell, her fire...